


H.S.I.S.A.

by onlyinhindsight



Series: MadloveforRK Writings [6]
Category: Twilight RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 22:19:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4116874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyinhindsight/pseuds/onlyinhindsight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A muliti-chapter fic that emerged from song prompts submitted to MadloveforRK. Rob and Kristen spend years after their break-up without speaking until they get swept away at their friends' wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heart skipped a beat (The XX)

Scout tickled Kristen’s side causing her to squirm and laugh. Most importantly, it interrupted her traitorous eyes, which kept drifting to the direction where she knew Rob and his party was seated. She was surprised they’d even stuck around Chateau Marmont after the hostess incorrectly assumed that the two groups would be seated together in Rob and Kristen’s usual section. Their eyes met briefly, and while the corner of Kristen’s lip lifted, he merely looked surprised and perhaps a bit embarrassed. She didn’t understand why until her eyes landed on the company around him. Compared to her friends in backwards caps, shorts with tees, and sneakers, his circle seemed so much more grown-up, typical Hollywood schmoozy or “snoozy” as they’d once joked. Still, she smiled at the sight of the backwards cap on his head, and before the hostess redirected his attention, she could’ve sworn he was about to smile back.

 

“Don’t even think about him, babydoll.” Scout nudged her again.

 

“Damn straight, we’re here having fun, and you know what they’re doing?” CJ dramatically sipped his drink with his pinky up for affect. “Being bores, trying hard to impress Mistah … Robert … Pattinson.”

 

Kristen rolled her eyes. “He knows what he’s doing, and I respect him for it.” A few of her friends scoffed at that. “What? I do. I… love him, and he wants… he needs to do this part of it so…” She shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. “I wish I could play that scene. It’s just not in me, and I want everything for him. He can be so great, and those people will get him there. I get it. I’m almost glad he finally gets it. Almost. I don’t have to like it, but I get it more than anything.”

 

“Bullshit. He’s an ass and is making a huge mistake.” She wanted to look away from Jaden’s sharp eyes, but she stubbornly lifted her chin instead.

 

“I’m not going to insult him with you guys, and I don’t want to hear you all do it for me. So if that’s what you all want, fuck you.”

 

“I don’t want to insult him.” Suzie whispered. “This just fucking sucks. I feel like the whole room is watching us and trying to figure out how to turn on the subtitles like we’re in a telenovela.”

 

“I don’t want to insult him either.” Jaden admitted and leaned back in her seat. “Really, I don’t. I just thought a good game of verbally kick the ex is what you needed. Sorry.”

 

Kristen laughed at that. “No, I don’t. At least not here.” She leaned in looked around the room with mock suspicion. “There are twats on their twits everywhere.”

 

“Hey, I’m one of those twittery twattery mofos.” CJ pretended to be offended.

 

She wiggled her shoulders and smirked. “Call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

 

She was grateful when the conversation shifted after that to something lighter and less personal, and she made sure to chime in every once in a while. As much as her thoughts were on the man on the other side of the room and whether or not his thoughts were on her, she didn’t want to add her inner wonderings to the noise in the room.

 

Less than an hour later, she spotted his cap and hunched shoulders. Her legs bounced under the table. After taking a big final gulp of her drink, she stood up. It took fifteen minutes for her to convince Scout and Suzie to stay. No female accompaniment required. Skirting around a large group of people leaving, she walked in the direction she’d thought she saw him disappear.

 

“Hey.” His finger traced her wrist, and she wanted to feel disappointed that she didn’t pull away at the contact. She’d never be able to wean herself off of his touch. He pulled her sleeve, so she’d move closer.

 

“Hey.” She looked up at him then and really examined his face. “You taking care of yourself?”

 

He nodded. “You?”

 

“Yeah, and Bear and Bernie, they’re doing great. I, um, I was going to call or have John call to see when would be a good time?”

 

“Maybe in a week or so… I have the Dior campaign this week, and well, y’know.”

 

“Oh, yeah, you’re going to be awesome.” She bumped his shoulder and grinned. She was proud he’d followed Nick’s suggestion after a lot of prodding by her.

 

He smiled more genuinely at that. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that.”

 

“I’m pretty sure there are a lot of people eager and willing to tell you that. In fact, some of them are with you tonight.”

 

He bent toward her ear, and she could faintly smell liquor on his breath. “But they’re not you.”

 

She jerked her head away from him then. “You can’t just say shit like that.” She moved her wrist out of his reach. “And you can’t just touch me. You chose this. You chose.”

 

“And you let me.” His nostrils flared a bit as he exhaled. “I miss you.”

 

“I miss you, too, but, Rob, what are you saying? Are telling me that you’ve sorted your shit out and want to really try, and not worry about them and their fucking opinions?” She shook her head when he didn’t answer. “You know, it used to be about our plans, about us. What the fuck happened?”

 

“Plans change. You would know.” He hurled his words in her face and regret immediately shone in his eyes.

 

“And so do people, I guess.” For the first time in weeks, she could feel her eyes well up with tears. She blinked them back. She punched his shoulder in a friendly manner, but she could tell she’d put more force behind it when he winced. “I wish you well, buddy.”

 

She turned away then. Skirting around one the guys she recognized as someone from Rob’s table, she nodded her head at him and put on her best smile. “Your boy wonder’s over there.” And after pointing her thumb in his direction, she was gone.


	2. Say Something (A Great Big World)

“Robbbbbbbbb.”

He pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure he’d read the screen correctly. He’d sipped the same vodka for most of the night, wanting to keep his head straight for the following day, but he was feeling a slight buzz.

“Kris? Are you okay?”

“Yessssssss. Better than.” He could hear something fall somewhere on her end. “Shit.”

“Kris? Where are you? What’s going on?”

She giggled in to the receiver, catching her breath. “I’m fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. I say that a lot lately.”

His chest tightened at how her mood shifted from up to down in seconds. Conversations like this had become a minefield for them in the past, so he hesitated at how to respond, trying to figure out what had changed since he briefly saw her earlier when he’d gone to pick up Bear and Bernie. He’d awkwardly said hello to her friends before taking off.

“Kris….”

“No, no shhhhhhh, don’t say anything. Just… can you just.” He could hear her let out a breath. “Come over?” Her voice sounded so small, and despite their current issues, he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest without knowing if she was okay.

***

He nearly turned around to hop back in his truck and head back toward his home as he should’ve done. As he approached her front door, he went over all the possible scenarios he should’ve taken. He hadn’t even considered calling someone else, maybe CJ or Suzie, to check on her. She’d more than likely forgotten that she’d called him and possibly regretted inviting him over. He wondered if she might even be pretty pissed at him for coming over at all, knowing she wasn’t okay when they were certainly not at their greatest around each other lately. He rang the doorbell. The action still felt strange for him. They’d stopped asking each other for entry not long after they’d become exclusive—sharing card keys to hotel rooms, barging into bedrooms and bathrooms, never having to worry about what awaited them on the other side. Attuned to each others’ moods, they’d always known when the other was welcome or how to occupy their individual time when they’d needed space. Now? He wasn’t so sure.

The door was flung open interrupting the stillness of the dark and the tension in his thoughts. This was a very bad idea, he thought as he gazed at her breathless form. She was a little red and sweaty from some unknown exertion, and her hair looked perfectly out of sorts. She wore her cutoffs and an over-sized t-shirt that hung loosely around her shape. Drunk and absently beautiful, she was still his kryptonite.

“Hey, come in, come in.” She smiled sheepishly before turning around to go to the den. “Sorry for the mess. I was cleaning and packing, and then I wasn’t.”

“You stopped?”

She laughed unhappily before twirling around and motioning to the shirt she wore. “Found this.”

“Fuck, I thought I’d lost it.” Before the meaning of his actions clicked, he’d stepped closer to her and pinched the fabric of the first vintage t-shirt she bought for him between his fingers, rubbing the threadbare fabric. His eyes lingered on the outline of her breasts beneath it. If he squinted he could almost make out the tip of a hardened nipple. He stepped away hastily. “Well, you should keep it.”

Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, belying the uncertainty he’d felt after standing so close to her. Her smell had muddled his thoughts. “I mean, you bought it.”

“Right.” Her face hardened. “It’s that fucking easy then. You break it, you buy it!”

“Kris…. I—” His jaw clicked with the pressure of keeping his temper. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

She shook her head angrily and took a swig from the clear bottle she must’ve been drinking all evening. “Ugh! Just go. Get out. I don’t know why I—you! You’re a fucking coward! I want you to say what you want to fucking say! That’s all I ever I want! I never thought you’d become a… a….”

“What am I?” He glared down at her, daring her to start the name-calling.

“A fucking liar! I never thought I’d see the day when you’d lie to me and yourself and and… and…”

“And what, Kristen? What? Cheat? No, that wasn’t me. Remember?”

“Of course I remember! All I fucking do is remember! I won’t let myself forget! And you told me to… you acted like you could and that’s not what I asked, I never asked for that. I never asked for a lie! AND YOU KNOW. YOU KNOW IT WASN’T… You’re just mad that the goose looks like a fucking duck!”

“The goose… what fuck do you even mean? How much have you had to drink?”

“Shut up! I know what I’m saying, and I’m right! You can’t even look at me, and when you do, you lie. I see your anger! I feel it, and I feel awful but you’re not mad about a betrayal!” She spat. “You’re mad about HOW YOU LOOK! You secretly like seeing me raked over hot coals. You’re mad at me, but not for the poor hurt reasons THEY suspect!” She jabbed her finger at his chest, drawing out the words ‘poor’ and ‘hurt’ in a mockingly sympathetic tone.

“OF COURSE I’M MAD! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SMARTER THAN THAT.”

She nodded, glad for the boom in his voice. Glad that he was saying anything instead of the walking away. Their faces were red. They matched each other breath for breath in pain and misery. The argument had had a sobering effect despite the inebriation loosening her tongue.

“You were supposed to look out for me, for us, Kristen! You should’ve considered me first and not as some fucking after thought. I don’t know how…. I don’t know how to hate you and not want you. I don’t know how to be angry with you and disappointed and not want to… to just fuck—” he pulled her to him and wrapped his mouth around hers. Their tongues stabbed and caressed the little cuts their words created.

“Uhhnfuck, Kris—“

“Shh shh, no, I need—“ Their mouths connected again and she pushed him toward the couch, so she desperate to climb on his lap and feel something familiar. She rocked over him, causing them both to gasp. “I want—have you?”

Knowing exactly where her thoughts had gone, he shook his head. He hadn’t been with anyone else.

She smiled and grabbed his jaw as she began to kiss and grind herself on him in earnest.

“Ahh fffffffuck, baby, I’m not—I’m already—“

She hopped up and hurriedly yanked down her cut-offs and panties as he lifted his ass to undress his lower half. His pants were half way down his thigh before she climbed over him again. Reaching down to grab him, she rubbed his head against the lips of her pussy, causing him to hiss, before bringing him to fill her completely. She half sighed and groaned as they thrust in time with each other.

“Kris, I’m so fucking—“ he started. His hands squeezed her hips and ass against him, silently asking her to ride him faster with his need.

“Please, please, please, I want to see.” She stared at his face as he began to come, and she could see the honesty in that uncontrollable ache. Early in their friendship, stoned out of their minds, they’d wandered on to the topic of sex, and he’d theorized that people are at their most honest state when they’re either sleeping or climaxing. At the time, she’d giggled and shook her head at his cynicism. Watching his eyes dilate and his jaw clench almost painfully, she could see the truth in it now. When he was done, she hid her face in his neck, breathed him in, and tried not to cry. The nearness of her own orgasm had faded.

He hugged her to him as he caught his breath, his face buried in the dip between her neck and her shoulder. They lay together for a few minutes. Despite their harsh words, his earlier anger had dissipated as he re-discovered his home within her. The aftershocks of his orgasm left him spent and giddy. Rob couldn’t stop his smile at their disheveled state of undress. In his eagerness to feel and kiss every inch of her skin within reach, he’d stretched the collar of the tee she wore. We’ll always find a way to this, he thought. He breathed their combined scents in deeply and softly kissed her neck. His fingers glided to where they were still connected. “Kris, baby, let me see you. I want to feel you come, too.”

Silence.

“Kris?” He maneuvered their bodies so he could see her face. She made a disgruntled noise and rested her head back on his shoulder. She’d fallen asleep. He laughed and held her to him tightly, as he struggled to stand, slipping out of her and trying not to fall with each step. Slowly, he worked his way toward the bedroom with her in his arms, flicking off the lights as he went.

Gently, he placed her on her side of the bed and started to stand, but she clung to his shirt. “Okay, okay,” he spoke to her even though he doubted she could hear him. “I’m not going. Just let me clean us up first.” He returned with a washcloth and wiped her and then him before tossing it on the floor. He toed off his sneakers and climbed over her to what was once his side of the bed and let his body relax. He closed his eyes, unsure of what his world would look like when he opened them again.

***

He woke up to a nudge against his shoulder.

“Rob? Rob?”

“Hmmmmyeah.” He sleepily pulled the morning nudger against him.

“Rob! Stop. Wake up!” He opened one eye to see Kristen sitting up with a sheet wrapped around her. “I have to get ready for my flight. And you have to go home.”

He closed his eye at the unintended sting. The word home sounded so harsh the way she’d said it.

“Wake up… you can’t stay here, Rob….”

He rolled over and placed his feet on the ground. He searched the floor for his shoes while recounting his memories of the previous night…. He hadn’t felt her come, but he’d known she was close and that he’d idly planned to reciprocate in morning before he’d passed out and before she woke him up to send him on his way. He could feel his earlier irritation with her from the previous night returning.

“Here.” She shoved his shoes in his line of vision before hurriedly moving about the room, gathering items and placing them elsewhere. The motions of cleaning without a cause.

“So that’s it then?”

His words were the off switch to her hung over, busy bodied pretending. She dropped the clothes piled in her arms and slowly walked toward the bed to sit beside him.

“I think we should stop.” Her hands twisted and pulled at each other.

“I thought that’s what we were doing.”

She shook her head, and he could hear her sniffle. He didn’t want to look up and see the tears that would be there. “No, we weren’t. We were … God, I don’t know.” She laughed out a sob.

“Kidding ourselves?”

“No, not kidding… maybe… maybe hoping. We were hoping ourselves to death. A new kind of torture. I really thought we could find our way to being friends again without… this.” She motioned to the bedroom as if it contained all of the skeletons buried in their every unwanted, accusatory thought. “What person in their twenties shares custody of dogs?”

“I don’t know… I knew someone who stole a cat once?” He fell back laughing. It hurt but he wasn’t sure if he could handle the alternative—more fighting and crying. He felt her shift against his right side, and he let his arm hold her as she curled up near his shoulder. It felt nice and awful, but he knew it was only because it felt like the last time.

“So how do we do it?”

“I don’t know… flip a coin?” He shrugged.

“Poor babies.”

“Yeah, poor babies.”

“You get it, right? I’m not trying to be a bitch, but last night….” She groaned and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes.

“Felt good.” He grinned as she shoved his shoulder.

“Shut up.” She glared at him, but it wasn’t in anger. “I’m not talking about … how we fucked, or that we—it doesn’t go away. The reasons, why we yelled, why we’re so mad even when we can be so….”

“Good together?”

She nodded, playing with the loose thread on his sleeve. “Even then, nothing’s changed. It’s not going to change to unless we stop.”

The vein on his forehead protruded a bit, worrying her. He sat up then, ready to go and avoid her observing eyes. “Got a quarter?”

With a sigh at his shifting demeanor, she climbed out of the bed and searched her pockets and the bedside table. “Jesus fucking Christ, how is there not a single quarter or nickel… something!”

Rob snickered.

“Shut up! Kitchen?”

He trailed behind her through the house, holding back his laughter. “Seriously, have I been robbed of all change? Are you going to help or just laugh at me?”

“How about…” Rob went over to the fridge. “We throw this?” He held out a magnet. “Stormtrooper face up: Bear. Stormtrooper face down: Bernie.”

“Deal.”

He looked her over for the first time since the night before—bedhead and sloppy, matching him in every beautiful, despicable way. They were a sad pair. “Whatever happens, Kris, know that I really wanted this to work. I wanted you.”

She pressed her palm against her mouth, the pressure both a distraction and a necessary barrier for the flood of emotions raging inside of her. She nodded looking at the counter and then back at him and cleared her throat to test if she was capable of speech. “Yeah, um.” Her voice wavered. “Me, too.”


	3. I Need My Girl (The National)

Rob watched as Bernie ran around the yard, tossing her ball in the air as she made her way back toward him. The sight made him smile and laugh as he called out to her. Not that it hurried her progress. She never ran directly to him during a round of fetch. She’d run amok throwing and dropping the ball while enthusiastically barking at herself or Rob or nothing. Something in his mind flitted across a similar scene, but instead of one dog in the yard, there were two—Bernie and Bear. Kristen walking outside and slipping her arms around him, she’d half sigh, half breathe him in as she kissed him between his shoulder blades. He’d hum and shiver at the sensation. “Dinner’s ready, babe.”

Bernie’s bark and a slobbery toy being shoved into his limp hands snapped him from his memories.

“C’mon, Berns. That’s enough. Let’s feed ourselves.” He turned around gruffly, knowing she’d follow. Sometimes he thought she was looking at him sadly, and dog-lover that he was, he knew she wasn’t stupid. He knew that she knew that he missed Kristen just as much as she missed Bear. Hell, he missed Bear, too. Four years had passed since he’d seen either one face to face. Less than six months after their argument at Chateau Marmont and one drunken make-out session later, Kristen demanded that they cut off all contact and shut down the ridiculous notion that they could share the dogs. Not wanting to decide, they’d flipped a coin. Heads Bear; tails Bernie. He got heads, and he found himself intentionally lying to her for the first time.

Ignoring the invitations on the refrigerator, Rob fed the dog and set out to feed himself. What he craved was Kristen’s lasagna. He made himself a turkey sandwich and stood at the counter while eating. He took another sip of his water before grabbing both the save-the-date and the actual invitation. You are cordially invited to celebrate the union of Suzie Riemer and Jack Standen …. He’d avoided the topic the last time he spoke to Marcus, ignoring the event that was taking place next week. After years of avoiding the topic of his ex-girlfriend, his ex-everything, he knew it was only a matter of time before he saw her again.

Of course, he couldn’t avoid her entirely. A hazard of their line of work: lose the girl and you see her image plastered everywhere, and it’s no figment of the imagination. He’d had his share of those as well. Every girl with long reddish, brown hair covered in a backwards cap became her until they turned around causing his speeding heart to slow with disappointment and relief. He wasn’t sure what gave him the most anxiety—the idea of possibly talking to her again or the fear that her eyes would slide past him as if he wasn’t there. Despite their geographic proximity, it was surprisingly easy to avoid her and her usual haunts although he’d run into several of her friends occasionally.

He rinsed the crumbs off his dish before placing it in the dishwasher and wiped down the counter. Although he and Kristen could be quite messy together, the kitchen was always the exception to their laissez faire approach to housekeeping. He’d never fallen out of the habits she’d instilled in him. Grabbing his phone, he went into the den and plopped down. Bernie hopped on the couch beside him and placed her head on his lap, nudging his hand with her nose.

“You think I’m overthinking this, girl?” Her eyes moved to look at up at him and her tail thumped against the fabric.

“Two thumps if you think I’m an ass.” Her tail struck the surface three times. “Well, what the fuck does that mean?”

He laughed at himself before browsing the contacts on his phone. He paused at her number. Several times over the years, he’d wanted to text or to call her. The closest he’d ever come to contacting her was to send a congratulations for her receiving the Palme D'or at Cannes the previous year. He was there as well and had spent the majority of his time being Marlowe’s date and the sixth wheel in Tom and Sienna’s growing family. He’d felt Tom’s knowing stare and his throat closed up at the questions he’d wanted to ask but had never fully acknowledged before. His friends were hers as well, and they’d all politely talked around her.

If Tom and Sienna spoke with her, he’d never known and the same went for Marcus, Jack, and Sam. Some days it was easy to pretend otherwise, but every once in a while one of them would mention Suzie or some other mutual friend, and it would hit him. She was still out there, still relevant to his circle, simply on the opposite side obstructed by some impossible mixture of pride and pain that he hadn’t been able to see past.

He scrolled past her number and waited for the phone to pick up.

“Heyo, fuckface. You better not be cancelling.” The voice on the other end laughed, and he could hear loud chatter in the background.

“Is this a bad time?” He could hear a door close and the other voices became nearly inaudible.

“No, it’s actually perfect. I need an excuse to get outta here. Be there in fifteen?”

“Actually, I’m going to lay low tonight.” Rob scratched Bernie’s ear, causing her leg to twitch and her tail the thump wildly. He grinned at how easy she was to please.

“Nah, man. Tonight my mission is to get you laid and me laid, both, whichever. Listen to me. You don’t want to see the ex without busting a nut with someone pronto, alright?” Rob grimaced at the guy’s phrasing, thinking of the last time he’d hooked up with someone while out with his friend. He was almost too paranoid to perform with the possibility that she’d run to the tabloids on his mind, and she did indeed run to some gossip site with coy remarks about their ‘relationship’. He’d never met with her again, but she got her fifteen minutes. Although he didn’t plan for it, one side effect was that he hadn’t looked like a celibate vampire while Kristen had been spotted on several outings, smiling with some male co-star.

He couldn’t hang up the phone fast enough when his mother asked about the latest speculation surrounding Kristen. Despite his hatred of any and all tabloid stories, she’d piqued his interest. One Google search later, his mind had concocted various scenarios, and he was stupidly making plans to go out. It was dumb, and he kicked himself later for never considering this part of breaking up–moving on and seeing her move on. Regardless of what was actually happening, it was an inevitability he’d avoided. He didn’t put much stock in the relationship rumors, but still, he did an inner fist-pump when reports surfaced that the couple was short-lived and no more pap pics of the pair were published.

“Stick with getting yourself laid. I’m in for tonight.” He hung up the phone and rang Marcus. “Hey, man. Not sure what you’ve got going on tonight, but how do you all feel about playing here like old times? Even—“

“Hold up, mate.” Marcus whispered to someone in the background and a muffled discussion followed. Just as Rob was about to back out of interfering with whatever his friend was doing already, Marcus spoke again. “Yeah, man, what if a bunch of us come over? Make it a boys’ night? Suzie and the girls are going to… I don’t know, do whatever shite American birds do—“

“Hey!” A few female voices sounded over the line. At that moment, he knew one of them was likely Kristen. Immediately, his ears tried to pick out her husky tone. His lips twitched thinking about how she was probably giving their friend the middle finger salute right now.

“As I was saying, they’ll stay here and we’ll be over in a few. We were planning to barge in anyway, but it’s always nice to be invited, Robbie.”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” Rob cleared his throat. “Tell everyone I said, ‘hello’.”

“Oi, everyone!” Marcus effectively shushed the group. “Robert Pattinson says, ‘hello’.”

A chorus of enthusiastic hellos sounded through the phone. He couldn’t hear Kristen’s voice in the din. He picked out CJ and Scout’s silly attempts at a Cockney accent, but he needed her voice. More than anything, he needed his girl.


	4. Stubborn Love (The Lumineers)

“You look beautiful.” He leaned in, catching a whiff of her scent and the flowers in her hair.

She pursed her lips and did a little head shake. It would be too easy fall back into old habits around him, and he seemed to know it. “I look exactly how I’m supposed to look at a wedding.”

“Technically, it’s a wedding reception.”

With a roll of her eyes, she tried to shift the direction of his focus elsewhere. “Okay then, I look exactly how I’m supposed to look at a wedding reception.”

“Ravishing?”

“More like … starving.” They made eye contact then, and a girlish giggle bubbled up from her throat shocking them both. “Don’t even,” she raised a brow, predicting exactly where his pervy thoughts landed, or at least what her Rob would’ve immediately thought.

She frowned at that and studied his appearance. Four years can change a person, and while he didn’t look old and weathered, he looked exhausted. He looked tired. It wasn’t her responsibility to be concerned, hadn’t been for a while, but she had the sudden yearning to make him tortilla soup and massage her fingers along his scalp and neck. Four years didn’t change much, but they’d changed enough.

“I haven’t eaten since last night, and I must’ve had three iced coffees today. The sooner the bride and groom show up, the sooner we can get on with things and eat.”

He made a noise that sounded a lot like the motherly tsks Clare would utter. “Stay.” Whipping around, he skirted around other guests and members of the wedding party.

In ten minutes, he materialized and placed a plate in front of her. “Finger foods from the kitchen!”

“Oh my god!” She smacked his shoulder. “How’d you…? Never mind. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I swear my stomach was about to revolt!”

“You’re welcome.” He watched her, pleased as she munched on some bruschetta.

“Oi!” A hand came between them, reaching for a carrot stick. “Where’d you get the snacks? You holding out on us, Kris Miss?”

Rob smacked his friend’s hand. “Lay off, you pig! These are for Kristen.”

“Ooooh, these are for Kristen.” Marcus mocked. He turned to her with a pout. “Stewie, darling, may I please help myself to one of these delicious finger foods our charming friend likely stole from the kitchen?”

Giggling, she nodded. She’d missed seeing this interaction even though it hadn’t been long since she’d last seen Marcus. Seeing their mutual friends without him never felt quite the same although it didn’t stop them from keeping in touch.

“You let him have one, and they’re all going to come begging,” Rob warned.

“True.” She tilted her head in thought. “But the plate will still be mine, right?”

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to want what’s on it. You should eat more.” He pushed it closer to her.

“Think I’m too skinny?” She laughed and grabbed another veggie. She wasn’t insecure, but she had to admit that she wanted him to look, to know that he looked and still liked what he saw. She pushed down thoughts of the few women who’d been fortunate enough to be photographed and supposedly attached to The Robert Pattinson.

“No,” he said quickly. He swallowed, the memory of seeing her walk down the aisle as Maid of Honor. He took no notice of the prat who’d walked alongside her, just her, with her hair pinned back but still flowing past her shoulders where he could make out the freckles he’d once laved over, her subtle, surprisingly voluptuous curves he’d seen take shape in his hands, molding and caressing, from her breasts to her hips down to her legs, strangely long despite her small frame. She was his Venus come to life. He grinned, tapping her knee with his. “You know you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“I do?”

He winked before standing. “You’ve got wedding party duties to attend to, right?”

She nodded and stood to follow his lead.

He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Will you find me after? Save a dance for me?”

She pulled back and stared at his face. His eyes were blue, clear, and intent. She wanted to see what he saw and tried to make hers match his in intensity. “You don’t dance.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Pardon? I recall us dancing quite a bit.” He squeezed his hands into loose fists to stop himself from reaching out to sway with her.

Groaning, she rolled her eyes. “All right, you don’t dance publicly.”

“Maybe I only want to dance publicly with you.”

“Well aren’t you Mr. Laying-It-On-Thick-With-the-Cheese these days?” She didn’t want to look away from him, but she could hear someone ask after her whereabouts as everyone in the wedding party began to gather near the exit.

“Is it working?” She looked at him confused. “The cheese,” he clarified.

She studied his face, considering the situation as much as him. He hadn’t seemed deterred by her silence. “Ask me to dance later.”

“And you’ll say yes?”

She shrugged and gave him a weak smile before turning around, not meaning for it to be a coy goodbye. She honestly didn’t know.

***

“It’s alive!” CJ wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her close. She laughed into his side before pushing him off of her.

“I’m sorry. I was just catching up w—“

“Oh, you don’t have to explain it to me, babydoll. The bubble is alive! As I live and breathe, that impenetrable force is still there!” Her giant bear of a friend did a little stomp and shout as if he were giving a sermon.

“Amen! Praise Robsten!” Kassie raised a hand in mock prayer to add to their friend’s embarrassment.

“Shut the fuck up,” Kristen whisper-yelled as she glanced around to see who could’ve overheard. “There’s no fucking bubble. And if I hear anyone say that name again, I’ll fucking—“

“Language! This is the Church of Love, and I won’t have you sully it with that devil’s tongue!” CJ exclaimed.

“Okay, drop the act.” She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at her friends. “We were just talking. No bubble. Just talk.”

“He brought you food.”

“And your heads looked really close together. Like, all leaned in for a kiss.”

“He brought you food.”

“He never stopped looking at you. Not for a second.”

“He brought you food.”

“Except when he left to get you something to eat, which was really sweet. But other than that, his eyes were trained on you and he was doing that mischievous smiling thing. WITH HIS EYES. We’re not the only ones who noticed.”

“He. Brought. You. Food.”

“We called your name several times before you heard us. And poor Marcus, one minute you were talking to him, and then next you guys were back in the bubble and he just stood like … Okie Dokie … before walking away. That’s the bubble at work right there!”

“He. Brought. Y—“

“I get it! He brought me food and we were talking. That’s it though.” Kristen thought over her exchange with her ex-boyfriend, ex-nearly fiancé, ex-everything. “There was no moment of kissing possibility. He brought me food because I’d said I hadn’t really eaten, which is a fact and umm, we might dance later–“ CJ squealed—“Please drop it. Today is about Suz and Jack, not … not about whatever the fuck that was. Is.”

“Aha! So you admit that you’re confuzzled?”

“So fucking confuzzled, CJ, but I’m not going there right now. Not today.”

Kass fist bumped her shoulder. “Well, they should be wrapping up the pics of the bride and groom and their families and then we’ll be making our ridiculous entrance into the reception, so you didn’t miss much.” Her friend was referring to Suzie and Jack’s awesome idea for their wedding party to enter the reception while dancing to Tupaq’s California Love. Kristen cringed. The things she’d do for her friends.

“I still can’t believe he brought you food and you didn’t bring anything to share.” CJ looked down at his petite friend in mock disgust.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking.”

“Uh huh.” CJ couldn’t hold the upset act for very long. “So, tell me though … he’s still got that thang, right?”

“That thang?”

“You know that unfffff, that swaggity thang, you know the thing that makes a girl go mmmmmmm. You still got that with him?”

“Ceej, you do realize the word ‘attraction’ exists, right?”

“Yeah, but that’s not as fun to say. Nor is it as accurate.”

Kristen rolled her eyes with a smirk and began to giggle.

“Awwww yeah, it’s alive, baby!”

***

At some point during the night, she began to wonder if she’d misread the situation earlier. Maybe a plate of her favorite vegetables and finger foods is simply that. Maybe flirting is a friendly thing exes do to with each other because they can, because there are no preconceived notions of hooking up. Been there, done fucking that.

She could hear a chair slide beside her and she knew before she turned to face the table’s other inhabitant that it would be him. Took him long enough.

“Hey.”

Rob looked at her a bit sheepishly with a grin. Now this man looked more familiar. “Hey.”

She raised an eyebrow in question.

“I couldn’t help noticing you were sitting here alone. No date?”

She shook her head, confused.

“Same here.” He sighed. “I hate weddings.”

“Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. “You love weddings.”

“Nah, I stopped loving weddings more than four years ago.” He looked at her sadly.

“What are you doing? What is this?” She motioned her hand between them. “First you flirt hard fucking core with me, and now this? Pretending to not know I’m here alone?”

“I thought… Fuck, I don’t know. The pretend to not know a person thing works in the movies, so I thought I’d try it.”

“So, you’re acting?” She laughed. “How’s that working out?”

“Well, since you refused to play along, we’ll never know.”

“Stop. Please. Let’s just be us.”

“That’s the problem.” He reached out and grabbed her hand from her lap. “I want to skip to the part where we’re us.”

Her brow furrowed, staring at their hands as he toyed with her unadorned fingers. “How about we start with being two old friends at a wedding?”

“Friends?” She nodded at his question. “And tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow… we can discuss the state of us over coffee.”

“Coffee sounds great.” He grinned, and she couldn’t hold her grin back. “But I really want that dance.”

He stood and pulled her up with him as she groaned. “Aww c’mon, Kris, don’t act like you don’t like dancing.”

***

Eyes still closed, awareness came to over her body and mind slowly. Her legs were pinned and she could tell without opening her eyes that a familiar, long manly leg was bent across hers. She’d woken up like this several times in another life when they were in whichever place they would call home. It didn’t matter where. Soft puffs of his exhales tickled her ear, and she knew if she turned, even slightly, her cheek would caress his lips. Do I want that? She stayed rigidly still, unsure if she should settle into his arms or jump from the bed in a hurry.

No no no no no no, this was NOT supposed to happen. She bit her lip to keep from muttering expletives aloud. Last night before accepting his hand to the dance floor, she’d pictured a different outcome. Flirtation definitely. Maybe a moment with a polite kiss, resisting the impulse to grow into something more. Separate beds in separate rooms, while eagerly anticipating their date for coffee and conversation the following day. Perhaps it would be shy and awkward, but it was a mature re-start. She’d mentally patted herself on the back for not being impulsive, a trait that had served her well on-screen, but had been one of things that Rob had loved and hated to love about her toward the end.

Her heart fluttered as her mind replayed what had actually happened. It started innocently enough with a dance and the loosening of their guards between fast and slow songs. Drinks upon drinks surrounded by the laughter and love of their friends who were relieved that bygones appeared to be bygones when served with a slice of lime. They’d quickly fallen into old habits, heady covert grins and unbroken eye contact that seemed to communicate just enough, but in reality were skimming the tip of the iceberg that they needed to address.

Regardless of any lingering doubts after each secretly seductive touch imbibed, when he’d pressed her against the door to the bathroom, she wanted it. And later when she shoved him back into the mattress, he wanted it more. She couldn’t bring herself to regret a single kiss, every gentle and forceful grip of their skin meeting skin, the salty sweet taste of their bodies on his lips. Maybe it wasn’t smart, but she didn’t regret it. She swore out loud.

“Relax.” His voice was scratchy and she tried not to think of the reasons for that as she squeezed her legs together. He hugged her bit tighter before loosening his grip and bracing himself on one arm so he could see her face. Sweeping her hair behind her ear, he whispered her name.

She released a breath before opening her eyes. She didn’t know why she was shocked to see him smiling, and she couldn’t explain her annoyance with him in that moment. As if it could be so simple. She didn’t want him to look at her like that.

“This was a mistake.”

His jaw twitched with his hardening eyes. “Kristen.”

“Shut up, just shut up.” She pushed him away and clamored to get out of bed in search of her things. “This was a huuuuuuge fucking mistake.”

“Kristen, stop.”

“We were—we were swept up in wedding emotions. My mother warned me. This is a big fucking mistake.”

“Kristen, will you please stop and sit. Please.” He was on his knees on the mattress, and he didn’t realize he was begging for her to slow down until he was speaking. But he felt it in his gut—if he let her walk away again, it would be end of them. “Please, just … I’ll get dressed! And we can have breakfast and talk, but don’t leave, Kris.”

His beseeching tone and his clear blue eyes made her halt her movements, and soon she found herself nodding, clutching the top of her unzipped dress to her chest.

He crawled closer until he reached the edge of the bed as if he were approaching a wounded deer and with a single finger motioned for her to turn around. Hesitantly she allowed him to help her, and he was careful not to touch her skin despite his fingers begging for it. “But please don’t call what happened last night a mistake.”

She stayed still, not wanting to upset him but not wanting to concede either. “I don’t regret anything.”

His shoulders relaxed and he sat back as she turned to face him.

“But it’s still a mistake.”

“What? This could never be a mistake. We happened, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Life changing, epic shit, that’s what we were. That’s what we still are, Kristen.”

“Get dressed.”

“I will. I just want to make sure you won’t run.”

“I’m not gonna run. Just fucking put some clothes on because you can’t say romantic shit to me right now, while naked.” Her cheeks pinked when he glanced down at his lower half on full display.

“You never compl—“

“Don’t. Don’t be cute, don’t joke.”

“Okay, okay. No jokes, but I don’t think I can turn off the cute any more than you can turn off the breathtakingly beautiful for me, so we’ll just have be evenly uneven.”

She tried not to laugh and was relieved he was moving away from her and finding some clothes to put on. “Ughhhh, just shut up.”

“Never.” He stuck out his tongue as he shoved his arms into the first t-shirt he reached for. “It got you to stay and stop frowning didn’t it? Awww, babe, don’t get mad again.” He pleaded as her demeanor seemed to shift again.

“That shirt! I looked for that shirt for months!”

“Oh, you didn’t think I’d let you have custody of everything did you?”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes despite it being genuine. “No. How is Ms. Bernadette these days anyway?”

“Still a hellraiser, but she’s got a bit of arthritis.”

She took in that information. Of course, both of the dogs were older, but in her mind Bernie was still the same age as she was when they’d decided to split the dogs, making Bernie solely his and Bear hers.

“Bear?”

She looked elsewhere, scared to see the possibility of tears in his eyes. He loved that dog, their first baby. “Good. Really good.” She smiled, biting her lip to hold back her sudden impending emotions. “He’s got a little gray goatee on his chin.”

His throat clearing made her turn around and this time she couldn’t hold back her sob. “I’m sorry.”

“Kris, Kristen.” He hurried to wrap her in his arms and held her as she shook. “This is what we have to talk about. There’s nothing to apologize for. We both made mistakes, and you—you’ve already apologized, so many times. I was an ass, an unforgivable ass to you, because I never apologized and I never tried to show you forgiveness. Forgetting isn’t forgiveness. I know that now. I’m sorry.”

He could feel her pulling away from his arms, but he let out a relieved breath when she only turned around to hug him back.

“I’ve never blamed you, Rob. That last time we—“ she stopped herself from gagging at the memory of his face beneath hers. “I knew it was over.”

“Christ, Kris… That night?” He rested his head on top of hers. “I thought we were going to start fixing us. Yeah, I was a fucking dickweed. I shouldn’t have let it get that far, but…”

She snorted into his shirt. “But you’re a fucking hornball?” She felt him nod. “You barely even looked at me. When you came, you were elsewhere, not with me. I could see it.”

“Yeah, well, for a night where I was supposedly elsewhere, I’ve whacked off to the thought of it many times since.”

“Ewugh! Robert!”

“It’s true. Are you done crying?” He leaned back and lifted her chin to see her face. “I didn’t even make you come. I’m a limey wanker. How can you possibly still love me?”

“What are you talking about? I came three times,” she replied, referring to last night instead of four years prior.

He grinned widely, and she wondered if he would still look so boyish when they were fifty. “So, you still love me.”

“What? I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t correct it.”

“I also didn’t correct you when you called yourself a limey wanker.” She raised her right eyebrow and started walking backward. “I’m going to the bathroom to wash my face. You go order breakfast.”

“Okay. We’ll have breakfast first.”

“Yes. And then we’ll talk,” she said slowly as she stared at him suspiciously. He was smiling too fucking hard, and she didn’t trust it.

“What are you doing for the next week?”

“Rob.”

“Just answer the question.”

She shook her head and blew out a harsh breath. “Nothing. I have the next two weeks off before pre-production. Why?”

“Good, good. Go wash your face. I’ll start breakfast.”

“And then we talk, right?”

“Nope.” Rob held up his hand, seeing her mouth begin to open. “Then we get married. We can talk for the rest of our lives, and we will, but this is it, Kristen. I’ve been your boyfriend. I’m ready to be your husband. I want us under the same roof with Bear and Bernie and whatever the hell you want—babies? Cats? I’ll buy you kittens and pump you full of babies. Or not! It’s your call.”

He raised his hands, seeing the look of he wasn’t sure what (horror?) on her face. “Just ignore that I said I’d pump you with babies, okay? I don’t want to scare you…. Whatever you’re ready for I’m ready for, that’s all! I’m just thinking. We did the waiting for the right time, going through the right steps, waiting for the right age already, and where did that get us? What do you want? If you don’t want to, I’ll under—“

“Marry me.”

“Oh, thank fucking god.” Rob released a huge breath with a wooosh. “I was lying when I said I’d understand if you said no.”’

“Everyone’s going to be so fucking pissed,” she warned. Despite her spoken words of caution, something inside of her was sprinting to an altar in Vegas. This felt right.

“Yeah, isn’t that great?”


	5. Against the World (A Tribe Called Quest)

“We’re going to be in soooooo much trouble.” Kristen hiccuped before downing the rest of her champagne glass and reaching for the bottle for a refill.

“Hey now, Mrs. Pattinson—“

“Stewart-Pattinson,” she interjected. She may have been more sheets than she could count to the wind, but she knew her name: Kristen Stewart, professionally, and Kristen Stewart-Pattinson in a way that was hers, theirs alone. She couldn’t stop giggling at the idea of it—them: married. From ex-boyfriend and ex-girlfriend to husband and wife in less than 24 hours, viva Las Vegas!

“We’re going to be in sooooo much trouble,” she repeated. This time it was a whisper against his mouth, but unlike the other times she’d repeated it since his spontaneous proposal, this time he understood that she wasn’t afraid of the trouble. Every bit of trouble they’d had and would inevitably have was worth it, and he didn’t believe that just because of how she rocked over him whispering her new mantra, her touch feather light and grounding him, holding them steady against the world. He believed it because he’d already lived too long without her and he’d rather have trouble than wasted time without his family, the only reason he’d stuck around a city he barely liked most days.

“So much trouble,” he echoed, capturing her mouth with a rhythm to match how she rode him.

…

While they’d predicted there would be trouble, they weren’t prepared for the onslaught. Someone from the hotel had released footage of the newlyweds making out in the elevator, and security could barely keep the paparazzi and film crews away. It was a slow news day, and the story of the star-crossed couple thought to be completely kaput since recent (and entirely false) tabloid stories had them at each other’s throats, getting eloped (drunkenly, according to reports, despite their being incredibly sober for the ceremony) was an international headline.

“I’m scared to turn on my phone.” Kristen shoved it back in her book bag. “I’ll save it for when we’re back home.”

“Yeah… about that.” Rob looked at her nervously. “Where is home? Your place or mine? Or should we get a new place?”

“We really didn’t think this part through.” Seeing his carefully composed face, she leaned in to kiss him. “No regrets. We just have some decisions, and we have time, so how about… we get Bernie and go to my place?”

“Deal.” He smiled, lowering the partition so they could inform the driver of the plan once they arrived in LA, but when he turned to face Kristen again, he wore a grimace.

“What’s the matter? We can go to your place? I just figured I’d cook us dinner and I know I have the stuff to make—“

“Kris, love, no.” He laughed. “It’s just that you may not have your phone on, but mine is and it’s about to wear through my pant leg and saw its way through my bone.”

“Eugh. That bad? Fuck, I bet some are from Ruth. They’ve all probably teamed up by now.” She worriedly reaches for her phone again and brings it back to life.

“Mum and da are ecstatic but are very put out that we’ve eloped without them. We owe them. Vic’s happy, supportive with reservations. Lizzy’s a string of those emotion thingies that I think means she’s happy. Steph says congrats and called me names; Nick’s uhhhhh said something vaguely similar.” Rob looks at her nervously. “Don’t worry, it’s me not you he’s upset with.”

“Dude, you’re in sooooo much trouble.”

“Yeah, well, so are you.” He sticks out his tongue while pointing at her phone still buzzing with incoming messages from friends, relatives, and colleagues. “They’re your parents too now.”

“Meh.” She shrugged and chucked her phone to side before awkwardly climbing over him in the moving vehicle. The driver hit a bump in the road, and she squeezed her arms around her husband and let out a slight yelp.

“Did you just meh the in-laws? Hmph, already getting off on a terrible foot, wife.”

“Maybe we should tell him to drive this car all the way to Mexico.”

“Hmmm or maybe we should talk,” he mumbled into her neck, tickling her with his day three-day stubble.

Groaning into his shoulder, she shook her head but knew he was correct. They’d had a one night stand and made the spontaneous decision to marry: in the morning and stone cold sober. As evident from the awkward round of whose house on first, they had a lot to discuss. They were a bit older now, and although they had no trouble finding work, they weren’t filming and promoting as non-stop as they had at the height of their relationship. But on top of talk of the future, they needed to talk about the present. They’d barely caught up at the wedding… or their private party after the wedding, and then after their wedding they’d been otherwise engaged.

“Okay.” Kristen climbed off of him and sat with both legs curled underneath her and faced him. They laughed at the familiarity and the strangeness.

He opened his mouth to speak, but their phones buzzed simultaneously causing another round of laughter.

“I don’t know why I feel so nervous after everything we—“ She bit the inside of her cheek and felt her face warm thinking over everything from the night of the weekend to when they’d reluctantly left their suite that morning.

“Relax. We’re going to be fine.” He entwined her hands with his and runs the length of his thumb across the inside her wrist. “The calls will stop eventually, and then we’ll just live.”

“And have fights.”

“There will be those, but we’ll also have a lot sex after we make up.”

“And I’ll cook.”

“And I’ll wash every dish or at least load the dishwasher.”

“And start it!”

“Right.” He grinned remembering their first fight after their moving in together for the first time, the first time either one of them had cohabitated with a girlfriend or boyfriend.

“Good. Then we’ll definitely be fine.”

Rob sighed and glanced away. They were already heading toward reality, and he wasn’t wasn’t quite ready to have everyone in his relationship again. “It won’t be easy or simple.”

“Hey there, buddy…” She grabbed his face between both palms to make sure he saw how determined she was to win over any obstacle. “Someone once told me that the best ones are the messiest. Do you know a love story as messy as ours?”

“Can’t say I’ve lived another one like it.”


End file.
